


PHI 302: Subjectivity, Irony, the Crisis of Modernity, and YOU

by Fifthnameattempt



Series: what you put in [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Humor, Iruka as the Overworked Education Major, Kakashi as the Campus Cryptid Who Never Graduates, Light Angst, M/M, Some Underage Drinking and Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29647425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fifthnameattempt/pseuds/Fifthnameattempt
Summary: Kakashi has been one semester away from graduating for about four years now. His friends have more or less given up on him. His professors have accepted him as a permanent thorn in their collective sides. The only people who seem happy to have him around are the guys in Financial Affairs whenever he cuts them another check. He is settling in to his own version of adulthood, warped and twisted just to suit him.And then Iruka shows up.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka
Series: what you put in [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2178561
Comments: 4
Kudos: 45





	1. Subjectivity

_Very nice._

It’s Kakashi’s only coherent thought as he stares down at the face on the other side of the threshold. Dark eyes wide, plump lips slightly parted in surprise, nicely shaped cheekbones flush from the cold outside. Almost unsettlingly nice except for the dark scar that cut across the smooth line of a straight nose and stretches over the tops of those self-same cheekbones, lending the features a sort of roughish quality. Top it all off with soft, shaggy hair framing the face and swaying lightly in the draft from the door down the hall and _very nice_ is almost an understatement.

Unfortunately, it seems he said this thought aloud.

“What?” Those lovely lips twist in confusion, the hand that had been raised to knock on the door retreating defensively towards his body.

“What?” Kakashi chirps back, leaning his weight against the door frame like that’s what he meant to do all along.

“I thought you said…” The man shakes his head as if physically throwing off the train of thought and pivots. “Is Asuma around?”

 _Asuma’s kid brother_ , Kakashi’s brain supplies belatedly. They have definitely met at least once before, but only in passing and only at a party. One of those awful ones that always seem to be going on any given Saturday night in the Sophomore dorms with the music too loud and the place reeking of booze. It was always hard to focus on anything at those kinds of parties and Kakashi usually coped by lightly zoning out as his roommates dragged him from room to room. Now he’s cursing himself because although _kid brother_ registers, he can’t recall a name.

“Mm, no.” Kakashi says, forcing himself to relax even further against the door, arms folded in front of his body. “He’s out. With Kurenai, I think.”

“Oh.” The confusion melts in a second, replaced with disappointment and those lips curve into a small frown. It would be adorable if it wasn’t so sad. “Oh, shit. I mean… _damn_. That’s… fuck. Sorry, I should have called, I just… _fuck_.”

He looks terribly lost, twisting in the wind as it drifts from the always-slightly-open door to the building and down the long, carpeted hallway. Sad and forlorn. Kakashi could think of a million descriptors, but he doesn’t like seeing someone so pretty look so upset, so he opens his mouth and keeps talking.

“Did you have plans?” He asks, “Asuma’s not usually flaky. They just went to the library. I’m sure he’d meet up if you called.”

“The library?” Iruka lets out a wry little snort. “Is that what they call it? Nah, I won’t bother them. We used to have a standing, sort of dinner thing. But I’ve cancelled the last few weeks, I shouldn’t have just assumed he would still be down for it. Sorry, again, for bothering you.”

“I could go with you.” Kakashi says, too quickly, then backs off when Iruka pins him with another confused look. “I mean, if you want. I was just going to the cafeteria anyway.”

A lie, but a mostly harmless one. His cultures can wait to be observed in the morning.

“Really?” Iruka rocks back on his heels, making the ends of his long, knitted scarf swing wildly over his shoulder. “I didn’t think you… I mean, I’ve never seen you in the cafeteria before.”

“Were you looking for me?” Kakashi asks, delighted and leaning in a little bit. It makes Iruka’s flush – which had been fading in the forced heat of the hallway – return in full force.

“No!” He says, too quickly. “It’s just… with the hair and the mask you’re kind of noticeable, right? I would have noticed.”

“We must have missed each other.” Kakashi says, shooting for suave. “I’m pretty sure I would have noticed you, too.” The flush is _really_ pretty, kind of dark and teasing against nutbrown skin but still undeniable. Kakashi presses his luck, holds his hand out and says, “I’m Kakashi.”

“I know.” He replies, shaking the hand doubtfully. “We met, like, three times last semester.”

 _Fuck_. That’s a lot of times to have forgotten a person. His third senior year had been kind of a blur. The medication he’d started over the summer was helping, but he wasn’t exactly going to trot that out at the top of their fourth first meeting.

“…sorry?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He answers with a shrug, putting his hand into the pocket of his grey cardigan. “Asuma told me that you’re… I mean, I asked and he said… I mean, I didn’t _ask-ask_ , I just was wondering if… And he told me because- he doesn’t just go around _telling people._ ”

“It’s okay.” Kakashi interrupts after letting him wind himself up for awhile. It’s pretty cute, but there must be a limit to the amount of misery one man can suffer in the drafty hallway of a poorly maintained college apartment building. “Asuma can tell who he likes, I don’t care if people know. Are you gonna give me your name or…?”

“Iruka.” Iruka says with a little sigh, relieved but with lingering embarrassment. He scratches the edge of his scar with his right hand, an unconscious tick he doesn’t even seem to be aware of. Kakashi thinks he’s maybe a little bit in love.

“So.” He says, returning to his casual slouch against the door frame. “Dinner?”

Iruka appears to steady himself. The flush leaves his cheeks and he gives Kakashi a very obvious once-over. Direct enough to bring a little color to his pale face. He wonders what he looks like, in a vintage army surplus supply coat, dark wash jeans and ratty high tops that were white when he bought them, to say nothing of the heavy cloth mask that covers the bridge of his nose to his chin. He has no clue what his hair is doing at any given moment. He wasn’t exactly planning on being _seen_ in the biology lab, much less evaluated.

Tilting his head and meeting Kakashi’s gaze with a curious look in his eye, Iruka asks, “Were you really going to the cafeteria?”

Kakashi swallows once. This is some kind of social test, maybe. The sort he always fails. Well, the truth will out and all that…

“No.” He answers honestly. “I hate the cafeteria. All the smells.” His hands gesture vaguely through the air. “And the lights give me a migraine every time.”

Iruka nods seriously, like that makes any kind of sense, and then smiles and Kakashi is just in _love_ again. “Asuma and I usually get ramen. The place is off campus and a bit of a hike, but it’s cheap and it’s good.”

“I like walking.” Kakashi says, stepping into the hallway and locking the deadbolt behind him.

“Me, too!” Iruka adds cheerfully and they fall into step side-by-side towards the door. Easy, even strides. “Especially this time of year. Anko thinks I’m crazy, but I’d rather walk than take the bus, ya know?”

“I do know.” Kakashi agrees, nodding and letting Iruka talk. Iruka’s voice is as nice as his face, he thinks. It doesn’t even matter what he’s saying. Kakashi just keeps making polite noises and prompting him on. They haven’t even made it off campus and Kakashi is mentally calculating how long he has to wait before trying to hold hands doesn’t make him seem weird.

Iruka has nice hands. It’s easy to tell because he uses them a _lot_ as he talks. Kakashi pictures himself catching one like a butterfly in a garden, scooping it out of midair and letting it rest in his grasp.

It turns out to be even easier than that because on the lamp-lit street outside of Ichiraku Ramen, Iruka takes _his_ hand and holds it all the way home.

It’s just as nice as Kakashi imagined.


	2. Irony

“Be honest.” Kakashi says, ignoring the glares shot his way from nearby tables. “Is Iruka avoiding me?”

“Kakashi,” Yamato sighs, his voice barely a whisper. “ _You_ said you prefer the quiet section…”

“WHY WOULD HE AVOID YOU!?” Gai’s stage whisper is louder than most people’s shouting. One disgruntled student gathers his things and leaves with a pointed scrape of his chair. Kakashi ignores it, focusing on his friend’s answer. “YOU SAID THE DATE WENT WELL.”

“It did.” Kakashi nods, lowering his voice slightly to appease Yamato. “We held hands! You don’t hold hands with a person you’ve just met if the date isn’t going well.”

“You’ve been glued to that stupid phone for weeks now.” Yamato appears to be dragged into the conversation against his will, glancing between the bright screen and his friend’s face. “I don’t think he’d spend so much time texting you if he really didn’t like you.”

“Exactly!” Kakashi hates texting, his phone is a graveyard of unanswered notifications. If notifications could unionize and demand compensation for overtime, Kakashi would go broke in a week flat.

But texting Iruka is… fun? He sends jokes and observations about classmates. Low-res pictures of campus dishware in weird places – including, once, a red cup from the university’s Southwest cafeteria on top of a lamp post – and detailed emojis that must take an enormous number of clicks to make on his ancient flip phone.

The enthusiasm has improved Kakashi’s messaging habits, at least in Iruka’s case. His usual one-word replies and stilted shorthand become long walls of text that get packaged and sent to Iruka’s phone in batches of SMS messages. Passages from books he’s reading. Thoughts on the relative nutritional value of various types of cup ramen. Texting Iruka is as easy as it is time consuming.

But the concerning thought that has been creeping over Kakashi for the last week is that maybe, just maybe, Iruka is like this everyone he texts. Kakashi couldn’t fathom it, personally, but he also can’t account for the fact that Iruka never seems to be able to meet him in person.

“Only, I’ve asked him out five times now and he’s always got some kind of excuse.” Kakashi frowns, tapping the screen once to keep it lit so he can stare at the latest refusal. “… he says he can’t hang out tonight because he needs to study.”

“Just study?” The concern in Yamato’s voice is enough to make Kakashi look up from the screen. Yamato and Gai are exchanging a Look that Kakashi very much does not like. “He didn’t say he has a test tomorrow or anything?”

“No.” Kakashi pouts, slumping over the table, head pillowed on his arms. “He says he just needs to study.”

Several of the residents of the surrounding tables shoot him pitying looks in the corner of his eye and Kakashi buries his head in the dark pocket of his arms with a little groan. “He hates me, doesn’t he?”

“Maybe he’s just really busy?” Yamato says, voice rising a little at the end with doubt. Kakashi withers inside.

“My friend,” Gai’s voice, on the rare occasions he chooses to speak at a normal volume, is deep, and unconsciously commanding. It makes Kakashi look up in shock to meet his friend’s serious gaze. Other eyes in the quiet study room are also naturally drawn to him. Arms folded sternly, he continues, “You’re greatest strength is your straightforwardness. You are unfailingly sincere with people. I believe that approach would suit you well here. Simply ask Iruka where his interest lies and relieve yourself of this burden of doubt.”

While _unfailingly sincere_ is not how Kakashi would describe himself – and from the twitch in Yamato’s brow, the biology major likely agrees with him – straightforward is probably a decent word.

“That is surprisingly good advice.” Kakashi replies, straightening up and ignoring the gleaming grin Gai throws at him from across the table. He opens his phone again and types up a response, sending it before he can second guess himself.

_We don’t have to date, you know. I am happy just to be friends._

It’s the oldest lie in the book, directly contradicting what Gai had just said, but it seems like the thing to do here. Giving Iruka an easy out was only fair considering Kakashi had started the whole thing in the first place.

He determinedly sets his phone to the side and puts all of his focus on the chemistry textbook in front of him. Iruka can answer in his own time and that has no bearing on Kakashi’s life whatsoever.

About two seconds later, the entire quiet room gasps when his phone vibrates loudly against the wood table. Not with a test message, but with a phone call.

“He’s calling.” Kakashi says flatly, staring at the lit up screen with _IRUKA_ along the top.

“ANSWER IT!” Gai shouts.

“Not _here_.” Yamato scolds, grabbing the back of his sweater when he fumbles to swipe _accept_ , and pushes him toward the glass door of the exit. Half a dozen eyes stare after him as Kakashi stumbles out the door and onto the veranda running along the back of the library. It hasn’t even shut fully before Kakashi is holding the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” He says, breathlessly.

“Kakashi!” Iruka gasps from the other end of the line, sounding just as out of breath and surprised as Kakashi feels. “I really, really, really want to date you! I like you _so much_ it’s honestly embarrassing since we’ve only really met once. My schedule is crazy this semester, I took on way too much. I overloaded courses _and_ I took an internship at the children’s theater and I still have to pick up shifts at the grocery store – I _swear_ I’m not avoiding you. I’m just so far behind on calc, I can’t do anything else tonight.”

Kakashi makes a little humming noise, enough to interrupt the flow of words coming over the speaker. He’d mostly tuned out after Iruka confessed, a bubbly feeling in his stomach makes him feel light and floaty. The overcast fall sky and chill wind suddenly seem beautiful. He steps on a particularly crunchy leaf that’s fallen on the veranda from the forest and says, “Come study at my place.”

“What?” Iruka’s voice is thin on the other side of the line, Kakashi can practically hear him frowning. “I mean I have to really study. I’m awful at math and I have to do all this extra work to drag my grade up or I might lose my scholarship.”

“I meant actually study.” Kakashi clarifies quickly, tucking his free hand into his pocket. The wind is actually quite biting. “Not whatever it is Asuma and Kurenai do. I’m good at math, I might be able to help. And my apartment’s quieter than the dorms, it will help you focus.”

“Oh.” Iruka’s sounds surprised, but the frown is almost certainly gone. “…that sounds nice, actually. Could I come by after my shift?”

“That’s fine.” Kakashi says, smiling broadly beneath his mask. “Come by whenever you like.”

“Okay. I’ve got to get back to work, but I’ll see you at seven.”

“See ya.” Kakashi agrees then hangs up the phone. The gray sky is beautiful. The dark forest is beautiful. The world is beautiful. Iruka wants to date him and because of that everything is perfect.

He steps on two more leaves as he wanders back to the door. Everyone inside has more or less gone back to studying. How nice for them, so serious and studious. Kakashi smiles at his fellow men, in a comradely mood. He grabs the door handle.

The door is locked.

He tugs it again. It makes a sort of clunking sound, but doesn’t budge. He tries his badge, but the panel flashes red. Denied. He frowns, tugs again. Nothing.

“Tenzo!” He shouts, rapping at the door with his bare knuckles. He can see his gloves resting on the table inside, just a few steps away. He doesn’t see Gai, but the hour has just clicked by so he’s probably doing his five minute exercise break. Tenzo’s head stays down. “I know you can hear me, Tenzo! Open the door!”

People are glaring again and someone throws a pen at the back of Yamato’s head. He finally looks up, meets Kakashi’s demanding gaze and points, straight faced, at a sign hanging on the opposite wall.

THE QUIET ROOM IS FOR SILENT STUDY ONLY. NO MUSIC, TALKING, OR PHONE USE ALLOWED.

Kakashi glares, but Yamato is unmoved and turns back to his work as though he had never been disturbed at all. Now getting distinctly cold – his jacket is inside, too and sweater doesn’t do much to stop the wind – Kakashi sets off down the veranda at a jog.

* * *

“Sorry, this must be so boring for you.”

It has taken Iruka an hour to get through three practice problems. The midterm exam will have twenty problems and has to be completed in ninety minutes. He’s totally fucked. A certified genius like Kakashi Hatake must think he’s a total waste of academic space.

“Huh? Sorry, did you say something?” Kakashi pulls his nose out of _Vanity Fair_ and blinks slowly at him.

“Nothing, it’s just…” Iruka trails off, flushing with embarrassment. Great, now he’s being a bother as well as a dunce. Some second date. “I just meant ‘sorry’, you know? That this is taking me so long. If this was an exam I would probably would have failed it by now, ha.”

He shoots for an easy, self-deprecating laugh but it just comes out strained and hollow. The Sunday afternoon shift always drained his energy, but apparently it also drained his entire brain today because he is coming up with nothing interesting or intelligent to say. Kakashi doesn’t say anything right away. Silence settles and Iruka squirms.

A slender finger taps the spine of the paperback and before he finally says, “Isn’t that the point of studying? So you can practice at your own speed before needing to perform under time pressure?”

He speaks each word carefully and Iruka can watch his lips form each syllable because they are in his apartment where cold winds and unexpected smells can’t assault him. The thick cloth masks he usually wears stay hung on a hook by the door whenever they’re not in use or in the wash. Iruka doesn’t know why it surprised him that Kakashi sometimes removes the mask when he isn’t meeting, but somehow mystery still clings to him anyway. It’s in the eyes, maybe. There’s always something hidden behind the eyes.

“Oh, uh,” Iruka scratches the back of his neck self-consciously as he realizes he’s been asked a question. “I’ve never thought about it like that, I guess.”

The thick book is transferred to one hand, one finger inserted to keep the page open, so Kakashi can tilt his head and look at him fully, as if Iruka is a new species of butterfly and he’s waiting for someone to explain what makes it unique. It’s a fight to keep another full blush out of his cheeks, but Iruka thinks he manages it.

“Really?” Kakashi asks, “How do you usually approach studying, then?”

“I, uh, well…” He cannot believe he’s about to say this. Kakashi’s either going to think he’s the biggest idiot or the most arrogant asshole he’s ever met. “Usually I don’t? Study, that is. I don’t study a lot. Or ever not really.”

“What do you mean?” Kakashi asks and the book is set firmly down on the table, gray eyes watching him so intently the feeling of being studied is amplified from butterfly to alien specimen. “Are you a bad student?”

“No!” Iruka bristles, instinctively covering the page of scratched out and rewritten practice problems on the lined notebook in front of him. “I’m a good student! I take really good notes during lecture and I just sort of _remember_ after that. All I’ve ever had to do to make decent grades is kind of glance over them right before a test.”

“Wow. That’s really impressive!”

Iruka scowls at him, but Kakashi’s charcoal gray eyes stare back without a hint of insincerity. His chin is perched in his hand the smile on his face appears to be genuinely impressed.

“Shut up.” He mumbles.

“I’m serious, Iruka.” Kakashi says, “That’s really cool. I could never do something like that.”

“Whatever.” Iruka scoffs, leaning his weight back against his chair because suddenly the table between them seems much too small and there’s all this dizzying pressure to close the distance surging in his chest. “It’s not doing me any good now. No matter how many notes I take or questions I ask during class, I just can’t get this stuff. I thought you were a genius – what do you do?”

“I just study.” Kakashi answers with a shrug. Iruka glares.

“Fuck off.”

“I mean it!” Slim, pale palms rise into the air in surrender and Iruka’s gaze follows them. They’re nice hands. He remembers how holding one felt and the memory makes his cheeks want to flush again. Kakashi’s still talking. “All I do is study. I show up for the first day to get the syllabus and I sit the exam. The rest of the semester I just study on my own.”

Iruka gapes at him, jaw working uselessly. “Everybody says you never show up to class, but I thought that was an exaggeration! Is that even allowed? What about classes with participation requirements?”

Kakashi shrugs, “I avoid them when I can and take the hit to my grade the rest of the time. I’ve only got a 2.3 GPA, you know.”

“That’s practically on probation.” Iruka almost breaks out into full body hives at just the thought of dancing that close to the edge of academic probation. “How do you stand it?”

“Mah, you get used to it.” Kakashi shrugs again and then silence stretches between them. Iruka leaned back in his seat and Kakashi leaning against the table.

Iruka’s eyes flicker between charcoal gray eyes and the futilely filled pages of his notebook. Worrying his bottom lip for a moment, he finally asks, “Do you think you could teach me how to study?”

Kakashi’s grin is almost blinding, his eyes curving up into happy little crescents. “I’d love to! I thought it was so strange that you sat down to study in complete silence like a psychopath.”

This startles a laugh out of Iruka. “You were just going to let a psychopath hang out in your apartment all night?”

“Sure,” Kakashi shrugs again. “I let all the cute psychopaths hang out at my apartment. Do you want to listen to Mozart or the Mario Kart soundtrack?”

“M-Mario Kart?” Iruka stammers, half answer, half question, while fighting a fresh blush which Kakashi seems to be able to draw out of him as easily as breathing. But seriously, no one has called him cute since he was ten. Well, Mizuki did, but that only to…

“Great choice!” Kakashi chirps and the bright music that begins to pour out of his phone drives the errant thought of other nights and other silver haired men from his mind entirely. “Video game music is designed to improve concentration, you know. Would you like some tea? I like peppermint or chamomile for evening studying.”

“Chamomile, please.” Iruka answers and Kakashi hums along to the music as he fetchs an electric kettle, mugs, and tea bags from the kitchen.

His final move before settling is to drag his chair around the table, placing it beside Iruka’s so they can both read the open textbook. When he sits their arms are pressed together and their knees knock under the table. Instead of moving away, Kakashi just drapes his left arm across the back of Iruka’s chair and lets his legs stretch out.

“Just for the record,” Kakashi adds, now so close that Iruka can feel the breath that each word forms moving across neck and ear. “I’m a child prodigy, not a genius.”

“Oh?” Iruka asks, repressing a shiver. “What’s the difference?”

“Eventually, all the other children catch up and then you’re not so impressive anymore.”

And there it is. The deep mystery of Kakashi Hatake. The occasionally wistful, often whimsical edge that had drawn Iruka into the stories about him in the first place. But sitting so close, with those dark eyes inches from his own, Iruka thinks he catches a glimpse of what’s hidden in there. Of the thing Kakashi keeps so close to his heart. It looks an awful lot like sadness.

Iruka is very good at recognizing sadness. He’s been accused of attracting it before. Or being attracted to it, the distinction is hazy.

For a long, quiet moment, he’s pretty sure they’re about to kiss. His eyes drag down to Kakashi’s mouth. The slender jaw tilts toward him, impossibly close. It would just make sense.

And then the track ends and the unmistakable tune of _Rainbow Road_ fills the small space. The tension breaks and they laugh, clearing their throats and backing away like reasonable, studious young men. The time for kissing is not now. Kakashi’s arm remains perched delicately behind him, though.

“Right, pick a new problem.” Kakashi instructs, a hint of a laugh still traceable in his voice. “And we’ll go through it together, but this time we’ll actually use the textbook instead of trying to work it out through blunt force trauma or whatever it is you were doing here.”

He gestures vaguely to one of the large, scratched out portions of writing and Iruka elbows him in his conveniently located side, hard enough to earn a grunt but not do damage.

They ease into the evening then. Kakashi keeps him on track as easily as Iruka had kept the conversation flowing last time. For all the exhaustion and the _math_ involved, it’s one of the most peaceful evenings Iruka has passed since the semester started. They wrap up the problems – the ones due in the morning and the extras that will save his grade until the midterm – close to midnight and Iruka is swaying on his feet as he heads toward the door.

“Sorry.” He apologizes again as he lingers in the hallway, swallowing yet another yawn. “I’m usually more of a night owl than this, but those long shifts really wipe me out.”

“It’s okay.” Kakashi says, leaning against the doorframe and watching Iruka sway with a fond smile on his lips. “You have class early tomorrow anyway.”

“Yeah, but,” Iruka fights his millionth blush of the night and presses through, “I’d rather hand out with you than sleep.”

“Oh?” A long, silver eyebrow raises and Kakashi leans in almost imperceptibly. “And what would we do at such an hour?”

“Well,” Iruka says, his eyes slipping to the curve of Kakashi’s mouth. “There’s always the obvious-“

He’s being kissed then. Sweetly. Kakashi’s mouth is warm and steady on his own, one hand cupping his jaw. Iruka presses into it, but the touch remains gentle. He’s never been kissed gently, Iruka realizes. No one has ever taken the time. He lets it be what it is, puts one hand in the hair at the back of Kakashi’s neck, but doesn’t surge into it or demand anything more.

It’s soft and it’s sweet and then it’s over. Iruka’s whole body feels warm, his head dizzy from sleep and surprise and good, nice, happy feelings.

Kakashi’s smiling at him, the expression too big from so close up. “Have a good night, Iruka. I’ll see you around.”

“Night, Kakashi.” Iruka says, but doesn’t turn to go. They linger, scant centimeters from one another, trapped in each other’s orbit.

The door at the end of the hallway opens, a burst of cold air rolls in.

“Oh. Hey, Iruka.” Asuma steps through the door, tugging a leaf out of his hair and tossing it outside before the door closes. His eyebrows raise in silent question as he watches them jerk apart even though they hadn’t even been _doing_ anything. He looks like he wants a cigarette. “Kakashi?”

“Welcome home.” Kakashi smiles with just his eyes, comically cheerful. “How is Kurenai?”

“She’s great.” Asuma grunts and fumbles to get a piece of nicotine gum out of the foil. “Can I enter my own home?”

“H-hey, Asuma.” Iruka greets much too late, taking a hurried step back. “Kakashi was just helping me with some calc homework. But it’s late and a long walk back to the dorm, so I’ll be going now. Bye!”

He practically runs for the door, face burning. But still that pleasant, fuzzy feeling never quite leaves him. When he gets home, Anko throws a pillow at his head and asks, “What’s with that goofy look on your face?”

Iruka throws himself down on his terrible, thin mattress with a happy sigh, clutching Anko’s pillow to his stomach. “I think I’m in love.”

* * *

Kakashi lingers in the door way to the kitchen. Hovers, even. Asuma ignores him, chewing his gum and muttering as he fries an egg.

“You’re not going to give me the big brother speech?” Kakashi asks, frowning. “I feel like Iruka deserves the big brother speech.”

“Oh, shove it.” Asuma rolls his eyes, the egg sizzles in the pan. “First: Iruka’s terrible taste in men is well-documented and I’ve learned to stay out of it. Second: He’s got more titles than I do. If you fuck this up, he’ll finish you himself.”

Kakashi would really like to ask more about the first point, but something in Asuma’s posture says that’s the most he’ll say on the subject. Instead, he asks, “Iruka does tae kwon do?”

“Obviously.”

This is not obvious to Kakashi in anyway, but he sets the point aside.

“Alright, then.” He shrugs himself and turns for the hallway to his bedroom. “See you when I see you.”

“There is one thing.” The bigger, broader man with three state titles in tae kwon do says abruptly, “If I catch you having sex with my baby brother on any shared surface in this apartment, I will lock the doors and burn the place down with you still inside it. Are we clear?”

Kakashi swallows once. “All clear.”

“Good.” Asuma grins, perfectly fried egg slipping easily from oiled pan to plate. “See you when I see you.”


	3. Social Norms, Social Change

Iruka hadn’t noticed how close he was to burning out until he spent three weeks trying to cram just one more thing into his schedule. Between his course load, his job, the internship that is slowly trying to swallow his life, and the various clubs and associations he’d committed to at the end of Freshman year before he realized just how much _work_ twenty-one credit hours was going to be, adding _kiss Asuma’s cute roommate_ to the to-do list had suddenly seemed impossible.

Fortunately, once mutual attraction was assured, it turned out Iruka didn’t have to do much at all. Kakashi was just _there_. Filling cracks in Iruka’s day he’d never even noticed. Walking beside him as Iruka crisscrosses the campus to get from the library to the science hall. Bringing him coffee as he scrambles to post reading responses before noon. Kissing him breathlessly when he steps out for air during his lunch break in the middle of a closing shift.

Kakashi has become such a fixed presence in his life, Iruka isn’t even surprised to find him waiting on the steps outside the _Konoha Memorial Performing Arts Center_. He’s only surprised to find him asleep.

“Aren’t you cold?” He asks, settling onto the step above Kakashi’s sprawled form. The concrete surface is definitely cold, any warmth imparted to it by the sun must have leaked away hours ago, and the chill bleeds through Iruka’s worn blue jeans immediately. He shivers, tugging his gloves on and tightening his scarf.

Kakashi stirs slowly. Looks first to Iruka and then up to the streetlight that illuminates them with a frown. “There was a sunbeam here when I sat down. It was cozy…”

His expression, absolutely stricken at being abandoned by the sun itself, is so earnest Iruka snickers as he drags him to his feet.

“I’m going to call you _Cat-_ kashi if you don’t stop falling asleep in sunbeams.” He threatens.

“Don’t do that.” Kakashi’s dismay deepens, only heightening Iruka’s laughter, until he takes advantage of the younger man’s distraction. Stepping into his languid stance, Kakashi unbalances him, forcing him to keep stumbling back to stop himself from falling over, until he’s pressed against the wide column of stone that supports the roof high overhead.

“That’s cheating.” Iruka says, every inhalation a reminder of how close Kakashi is. He imagines he can feel Kakashi’s breath on his lips through the black fabric between them.

“What’s cheating?” Kakashi asks, eyes dancing with delight.

“I don’t know.” Iruka replies, train of thought lost the moment Kakashi’s gaze dips down to his mouth. He slides one hand up the long line of Kakashi’s torso, moves to slip the elastic off his ear, heart thudding in his chest…

“Leave him alone, you perv!”

The flying kick is surprisingly well-executed, a blur of blond and orange flying right at Kakashi’s head, but that doesn’t stop Kakashi from twisting at the last second, snatching the blue shoed foot out of midair, and tossing Naruto down the stairs.

“Ow!” Naruto cries as he rolls down the remaining steps.

“Kakashi!” Iruka punches him in the side hard enough to make him wince. “You can’t throw children!”

“Naruto’s indestructible.” Kakashi rubs his injured side, glaring down at his pint-sized nemesis. As if to prove the point, Naruto turns over his shoulder and comes to his feet without any apparent injury, glaring right back at Kakashi, “What are you doing here, brat?”

“You two know each other?” Iruka asks, glancing bewildered between them.

“ _I’m_ in the after school program!” Naruto announces, ignoring Iruka’s confusion. “What are _you_ doing here, besides assaulting nice teachers?”

“ _I’m_ here to walk my boyfriend home, so if you could just-” Kakashi catches himself too late. Because of Kakashi, they have been seeing each other consistently for almost a month, but they haven’t had a proper date since that first night at Ichiraku’s. The topic of _labels_ hadn’t come up and now Kakashi has just casually tossed the _b_ -word around.

Sensing the other is about to make some sort of hasty excuse and exit, Iruka threads their fingers together and leans against Kakashi’s narrow shoulder. “Let me try again,” He says, using his best no-nonsense voice. “How do you two know each other?”

Kakashi’s fingers flex against his own and Iruka doesn’t have to look to know he’s the recipient of a particularly lovesick gaze at the moment. He keeps his eyes on Naruto, who continues to glare at Kakashi, but finally answers.

“ _He’s_ the washed-up loser who always hangs around the house and eats the last slice of pie.” Naruto recounts, uncharitable in a way that only a twelve-year-old can really pull off.

Kakashi sighs, “He’s my advisor’s kid.”

“Doctor Namikaze is your dad?” Iruka blinks twice. Actually, the resemblance is kind of uncanny now that he’s looking for it. The spiky blond hair, the bright blue eyes. Iruka had never had a class with him, but Minato Namikaze was well-known on campus. He is a respected, published doctor of philosophy and the head of the university’s prestigious honors program.

Namikaze was also, as Izumo put it, a _snack and a half_. Iruka, personally, had no opinion on which one of those things made him more popular on campus.

“Duh.” Naruto rolls his eyes and looks ready to launch into another tirade when a new voice joins from the top of the steps.

“Are you ready to go, loser? I don’t want to be late again.” Sasuke, with his backpack coolly slung over one shoulder, ignores the two adults as he makes his way down to the street. His eyes are only on Naruto.

“Don’t call me a loser, jerk!”

“Are you guys walking home? Can I come, too!?”

Naruto’s fierce scowl immediately turns into a big grin as Sakura dashes down the stairs to catch up to them. “Sure thing, Sakura!”

“I was asking Sasuke.” She sticks her tongue out, bubble-gum pink hair swinging as she turns her own attentive smile to the third member of their party. Naruto’s face falls.

“I don’t care. Let’s just go.”

Sakura appears delighted by this not-quite dismissal while Naruto simply scowls deeper.

She turns at the last second, always remembering her manners, to wave up at the adults, “Bye, Iruka! Bye, Iruka’s boyfriend.”

“See you next week, kids, don’t fight too much on the walk home.” Iruka says with a wave and a smile. Beside him, Kakashi manages a slight nod – ear tips flushed pink at being called _boyfriend_ – while Sasuke mutters a ‘later’ and heads off up the street.

Naruto doesn’t leave immediately but instead fixes another glare at Kakashi. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“I will throw you down another flight of stairs.” Kakashi responds with false cheer. Iruka’s grip on his hand tightens in warning.

“Naruto, stop harassing my boyfriend.” Iruka says just to feel the way Kakashi stiffens in shock beside him. “I’ll see you next week.”

“Yeah, yeah, see ya Iruka.” Naruto waves as he slowly turns to catch up with his friends.

They’re left standing hand in hand on the steps, watching three small backs retreat into the distance. A chill wind blows and Iruka shivers, then gives a small chuckle. “I guess we should, ah, head out, too.”

“Right, right.” Kakashi agrees automatically, still trying to get his bright blush under control. “You have that future teacher meeting thing tonight, right?”

“ _Yup_.” Iruka says, popping the ‘p’ and sounding distinctly unexcited. “Seven to nine. Just a general meeting, though. You could probably come if you wanted. There’ll be free pizza.”

Kakashi makes a small noise like he’s really considering it and Iruka smiles, already knowing the answer.

“No thanks.” He says finally, “I don’t think I could be around people who voluntarily spend so much time with children.”

“Fair enough.” Iruka laughs, swinging their joined hands playfully, “I bet they’d revoke my membership if they found out I’m dating a guy who throws kids down stairs, so it’s probably for the best. I need them to cover my union dues, after all.”

“How’d you manage to end up in education, anyway?” Kakashi asks, tilting his head.

Iruka shrugs. He gets this question a lot and tries not to let it bother him. _BROWN MAN WANTS TO TEACH ELEMENTARY SCHOOL_ hadn’t seemed like such a big headline until he’d actually followed through on it. “It’s what I always wanted to do.”

“But I thought your old man wanted all his kids to be doctors or lawyers.”

“Huh?” Iruka frowns, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Asuma complains about it all the time.” Kakashi tries to clarify. “About how your dad will only pay for pre-law or pre-med. Is it different because you’re the youngest or…?”

“Hiruzen’s not my dad.” Iruka says softly. The line of scar tissue across his face burns the way it always does when his family comes up.

“Oh.” Kakashi says, only belatedly noticing how slack Iruka’s grip has become. He lets go and tries not to take it personally when Iruka immediately shoves the freed hand into a pocket. They come to a stop at the corner and have to wait for a walk signal. The evening traffic on the streets surrounding the school rushes by in a bustling, busy hurry that hadn’t seemed so loud until silence stretched between them. “Asuma always calls you his brother, I didn’t mean to assume…”

“He is my brother. His family fostered me.” Iruka swallows at Kakashi’s confused expression. He’s making this weird. No matter how hard he tries it always comes out weird. “After my parents died.”

The orange hand flips to a white stick figure and they cross with the flow of traffic in silence. They go a full block without speaking and then turn onto a quieter, more residential street.

“Are you related to them?” Kakashi asks.

“N-no.” Iruka stutters, surprised by the question. It’s not the one he was expecting and not one he remembers ever being asked before.

“Hm.” Kakashi hums thoughtfully, hooking his thumbs into the pockets of his coat. Then, “My foster families were always related to me.”

Iruka doesn’t stop and he doesn’t stare, but it’s a near thing. His heart thuds painfully in his chest as a feeling of recognition and understanding suddenly blooms inside of him that he’s never felt before. He breathes deeply and tries to play it cool.

“Do you think it made a difference?” He asks, catching Kakashi’s gaze in the corner of his eye. If he looks long enough, he thinks he could see the same hope and fear and longing he feels mirrored in that gaze. He looks at the heavy, overcast sky instead.

“I don’t know.” Kakashi replies. “I’ve always wondered, though.”

“I was held back in the eighth grade and started getting into trouble with some other boys at the school. Hiruzen was the principal. He got me into tae kwon do, and therapy, and tutoring for all the classes I was behind in. Just before graduation he asked me if he could apply to foster me.”

In the eight years since his parent’s death, Iruka has never volunteered any information about their accident or the circumstances of his fostering with the Sarutobi family. People always had questions, though, no matter how much he tried to avoid them and he wasn’t a liar by nature. Talking about it made his chest feel tight and his head burn. He kept the conversations as short as possible out of self-defense.

But on this quiet street, surrounded by trees that had long since lost their leaves, and breathing in crisp night air, the words just spill out. Iruka stops awkwardly at the end of the sentence, unsure if he needs to explain more. Kakashi fills the empty space before he has to.

“For me it was a revolving door of distant relations.” Kakashi tells him just as softly. “Every year or two someone else would show up arguing they had a better right to custody than the last person. I got tired of moving around all the time, so I sued for emancipation at sixteen.”

Iruka suspects _tired of moving_ is an oversimplification, but he knows better than to press. Some things aren’t worth dwelling on. Instead, he reaches over and wraps his arm around Kakashi’s elbow, so their shoulders are flush together as they walk. Kakashi melts into the contact with a little sigh and Iruka lets his head briefly rest against his shoulder. The silence that fills the air around them now is cozy and confessional. They turn another corner and suddenly, through the quaint residential houses, the campus opens up before them all dark brick and low lights on the paved pathways. The library, wide and windowless, looms across the quad.

Iruka is seriously considering ditching the meeting so they can keep walking, when Kakashi lets out a little sigh of discontent.

“So, you really aren’t related to the Sarutobi’s? Not at all?” He asks again.

Iruka frowns, pulling back so he can see the Kakashi’s little pout in his eyes. “Kakashi…” Iruka starts, suspicion rising to certainty as he watches the tips of ears turn pink once again. “What’s my last name in your phone?”

“…Sarutobi.” Kakashi admits with a mutter and a kick of a stray leaf.

Iruka can’t help it. He laughs and laughs and then Kakashi seems to catch it, too, and they’re both standing in front of the library, laughing and clutching each other’s shoulders, the heaviness of the evening breaking to pieces around them. They’re nearly the same height, so all Iruka has to do to kiss Kakashi is slip the black mask down and tilt his chin up a little.

It’s a sloppy, goofy kiss between laughs, but it sends thrills down Iruka’s spine anyway and when he pulls away, they’re both grinning.

“Give me your phone.” Iruka demands. “Idiot.”

“That’s _prodigy_ to you.” Kakashi corrects him, but hands the phone over anyway. Iruka swipes it open, quickly finds himself in the contact list, backs over the name _Sarutobi_ in the surname field and replaces it with something else.

“Some prodigy.” Iruka says, pressing another kiss to his boyfriend’s lips and slipping the phone back into a pocket without showing the name. “Doesn’t even know how to ask someone’s name properly.”

“Mm.” Kakashi agrees, chasing the small peck and trying to deepen it, catching the lapels of Iruka’s pea coat and dragging him closer. “Maybe I need tutoring.”

Iruka is just about to let himself be fully persuaded into skipping the meeting when a throat clears nearby. Both suddenly remembering that they are standing scarce feet from the entrance to one of the most used building on campus, Iruka and Kakashi turn bright red and quickly separate. Genma watches all this from his perch against the open door, a toothpick bobbing lazily in the corner of his mouth.

“I was sent to find you.” He says to Iruka without preamble. “Secretary’s supposed to take role before the meeting starts and you’re five minutes late.”

Iruka curses, checking his watch. _7:07._ Between the altercation with Naruto and the heavy conversation as they walked, his half hour break had been stretched too far.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Kakashi promises from where he leans against the wall, his mask and casual air already wrapped around him like a shield while Iruka fights against a fierce blush.

“Tomorrow.” Iruka agrees and can’t help but squeeze his hand one last time as he makes for the door. His eyes linger after Kakashi as he rambles back out into the night, making for his apartment. Genma holds the door open, an amused smile playing across his face.

“I didn’t know Hatake let people get so… close to him.” He notes, which finally pulls Iruka’s concentration away from the retreating back.

“I’m the only one allowed.” Iruka grins triumphantly, walking into the welcoming warmth of the library. “He’s my boyfriend, after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this going to be longer than I originally predicted? Yeah. Did I come up with a plot for it? No.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little AU I've been playing with since Christmas. It's mostly hand written, so I just have to type and edit it as I go. Expect regular updates. Other things to expect: Light Plot, Kakashi's Big Feelings, and plenty of Hanging Out in Places Students are Definitely Not Supposed to Be.
> 
> Loosely connected to 'unsigned art work left in the h. senju arts building will be thrown out at the end of the semester'. In my brain they take place on the same campus ~10 years apart. So this is taking place mid/late 2000's while unsigned art work is closer to now times (just without all the, you know, everything we've got going on currently).


End file.
